


Sweet Little Things To Make You Smile

by Bennyhatter



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Boys In Love, Christmas Themes, Daryl is secretly a sap, Gift!Fic, Judith is adorable, Love at the end of the world, M/M, Only it's not so secret, RWG secret Santa, Snow, making candy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 08:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8790316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: It's almost Christmas, and Daryl wants to make something sweet for Judith. Rick has never heard of "snow candy" before, but they'll do anything for their little girl, and the end result is so much better than he'd expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CarburetorCastiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarburetorCastiel/gifts).



> HEY LOOK I DID A THING.
> 
> Okay, this is for my lovely, wonderful, super-sweet salsa. They've been so good to me, and I got them for the Secret Santa pick, and I hope I did the prompt justice. ;u; I wanted to try and incorporate all three of the things, but I only got two. I HOPE YOU STILL LOVE IT MY DARLING HIE. *flails* ALL FOR YOU.
> 
> Unbeta'd so any mistakes are mine whoops <3

“You’re makin’ _what_?”

Daryl looks up at him from where he’s hunkered down in the snow and smirks. They’re both in their heaviest jackets, although Rick is wearing gloves and has a thick, warm scarf wrapped around his neck. Daryl’s got his fingerless gloves, the tips of his fingers already bright red from digging through the snow that blankets the ground. His lover’s cheeks are just as rosy, the harsh wind whipping at his unprotected face. At least Rick has the scarf, but the winter cold burrows into their bones too deeply to be thawed until the first warm days of spring—at least they can cuddle up beside each other for warmth, though.

“M’lasses candy,” Daryl huffs. His pale eyes are twinkling, his chapped lips hitching into a wider grin at Rick’s blank, uncomprehensive stare. Judith is shrieking happily nearby, tumbling around in the snow in the snowsuit Glenn brought back for her on a run. She reminds Rick of a child he saw in an old Christmas movie once; bundled up so much she can barely lower her arms. She’s ecstatic though, laughing and doing her best to push through the snowdrifts that are almost as big as she is while Carl follows her like an overprotective mother hen. His son is just as happy—they all are. The world as they knew it is long since over, and walkers are constantly scratching at their walls, but all of Alexandria has emerged from their warmed houses en masse to enjoy the fruits of winter’s first snowstorm.

“How do you make it?” Rick crouches down beside Daryl to watch what the archer is doing, tilting his head to the side to try and figure it out. Daryl is heaping the snow into a bigger pile than it had been, and as he watches, the man starts dragging his fingers through it in strange patterns and shapes. Rick watches him make what he assumes is a pawprint, as well as circles and squiggly lines and anything else his heart seems to desire.

“Jus’ need m’lasses an’ snow,” Daryl murmurs while he works. Rick leans closer, and he catches a flash of Daryl’s wicked grin before cold lips are suddenly pressed against his. Daryl’s mouth seems hotter than usual because of the cold, and he moans softly when Rick licks past his teeth to give him a proper, blood-heating kiss.

“Da’ee an’ Papee kissin’!” Judith screeches, and they break apart with quiet laughs that puff pale clouds against each other’s faces. Their little girl waddles over to them, red-faced and bright-eyed as she beams and waves her arms. “Kissin’ in da snow!” she adds, and shrieks even louder when Daryl scoops her up and presses kisses all over her cold, red face.

“Kisses for Judy in th’ snow too,” he coos at her. She laughs and wiggles in his arms, and Rick watches and feels his heart swell with love and adoration for his family—and most of all his lover, who has stood by his side through everything and never once doubted him. They’ve all had their troubles, but they’ve seen each other through them.

“Hot molasses, comin’ up!” Carl calls. Rick turns to watch her come off the porch with a steaming pot. Daryl hands Judith to him, and he cradles his little girl—who isn’t so little anymore—against his chest. Her familiar weight and the tickle of her soft hair against his rough cheeks makes him smile; he presses a kiss to the side of her face while they watch Daryl take the hot pot from Carol and come back with it. The woman follows him, her hands tucked into her pockets and her face already turning pink from the cold air.

Daryl doesn’t explain what he’s doing, because in the end there’s nothing to explain. Glenn and Maggie come from where they’ve been building a snowman to watch the archer as he crouches down and very, very carefully tilts the pot to start pouring the hot, bubbling molasses into the designs he’s drawn in the snow. Carl pops up at Rick’s shoulder, watching with avid interest and looking happier than he has in a long, long time. Rick shifts Judith so she’s braced against his hip and wraps an arm around his son’s narrow shoulders, tucking Carl against his side and smiling tenderly as the rest of their family appears through the snowdrifts to watch their archer work.

“How’d you learn to do this?” Tara asks curiously. She’s the closest to Daryl, leaning over from behind him to watch the shapes come to life. Rick notices that she’s careful not to touch her friend—probably so she won’t disturb his process.

“M’rle taught me,” Daryl mumbles, clearly distracted by his task. They’d only found a few bottles of molasses on their last run together, but Rick can still remember how Daryl had lit up when he’d grabbed them, saying something about Judith and making snow candy. Rick hadn’t understood it then, but he does now.

The last few drops of molasses drip into what looks to Rick like a small, crudely-drawn dog. It’s cute though, and when Daryl hands the pot back to Carol and stands up, he’s got a small, pleased smile on his face. “Shouldn’ take long ta cool,” he murmurs. Judith starts wiggling in Rick’s arms, one booted foot kicking his thigh repeatedly, and he hands her over to his lover, who’s already reaching to take the girl. She doesn’t settle until she’s wrapped in his strong, capable arms, and Daryl rubs their cold, red noses together in a mockery of a kiss while the others chuckle.

Rick would never have imagined anything could make Daryl Dixon melt like snow in summer, but Judith is a master at softening his seemingly-tough hide. The only other person he softens for is Rick, late at night when everyone else is asleep and their bodies warm their cool room and make the blankets stick to their sweaty skin. That’s a whole different kind of love though, one that doesn’t belong out here in the light of day with the love of his life cradling his daughter like she’s the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“Love ‘Ryl,” the little girl coos. She cups his face with her mitted hands and kisses the tip of his nose. Daryl laughs and presses a kiss against her hat; Rick can see the tufts of her soft, dark blonde hair sticking out from under the brim. They must tickle Daryl the way they tickled him, because the archer laughs softly and kisses her forehead again before setting her down. Like a true child, she turns right toward the candy, and Daryl stops her with gentle arms wrapping suddenly around her waist to drag her back against his body.

“Don’ think so, kiddo,” he chuckles. She squirms and whines, so he crooks his fingers and digs them into her side. It’s not a very effective tickle, because Judith is wearing more layers than probably Rick, Daryl, and Carl combined, but she still laughs and squirms, and some of the cold sunken into Rick’s bones manages to melt a little just at the sight and sound of his daughter and his lover so clearly happy.

Daryl looks up at him with twinkling eyes, his grin so wide Rick can see the flash of his teeth. His dark hair isn’t enough to protect his ears, since he refuses to even wear a hat; Rick can see them sticking out of the mess of his waves, even redder than his face and probably burning from how cold they must be. His lover doesn’t even seem to notice, so Rick makes a point to himself to warm them up later—maybe with kisses, or maybe by rubbing them until Daryl melts against him and rumbles like a content housecat.

“They weady yet, ‘Ryl?” Judith pouts at him. She’s become a master at getting her way; she knows all she has to do is look sad and dejected, and maybe puff out her lower lip, and none of them can handle that level of adorableness. Not even Daryl.

The man makes a show of thinking about it, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and eying their little girl before he reaches over with fingers that are even redder than before and plucks one of the smaller candies out of the snow. Rick is amazed that it’s already solid, but none of the designs were very big, and it’s _really_ cold out. Even though the molasses was hot enough to be bubbling when Carol handed him the pot, clearly the elements have done more than enough to cool it off and make it safe to eat.

“Here ya go, munchkin.” He holds out the paw with a solemn face and warm eyes, his smile just a shadow hinted at in the corners of his mouth. Judith giggles and accepts the treat, biting into it and beaming. Rick can’t help but smile, and when Daryl holds out a hand to him, he hauls his lover to his feet and into a kiss. Daryl kisses back enthusiastically, the days of shyness and reservations long since behind them.

“Better get some ‘fore they’re all gone,” Abraham hoots at them. Rick honestly wouldn’t care if they don’t get to eat one—tasting Daryl is more than enough of a treat for him—but his archer laughs softly against his mouth and pulls away. Rick stays close, letting their body heat warm them where they’re pressed together while winter freezes everything else. Daryl grabs one of the zig-zag lines he’d made and sticks one end of it into his mouth. He sucks on it, his eyes going lazy and happy as he smiles around the treat, and Rick has to bite the other end with dark, twinkling eyes and a salacious grin. The younger man huffs at him, an opaque puff of air that tickles coolly against Rick’s face, and Rick bites off his end to eat it so that Daryl can finish off the rest. He’s never been one for very sweet things, but he’s been curious about Daryl’s “snow candy” since the day his lover mentioned it.

“’S like a holiday popsicle,” Daryl hums. Rick kisses him one more time, sharing the taste of the molasses between them and licking the traces of it from out of Daryl’s mouth. He finds he much prefers the sweet treat this way, when it’s mixed with the archer’s natural flavors.

“Wan’ kisses too!” Judith is at their hips, reaching up as much as she can and grinning with the innocent joy all children possess—even in the midst of the apocalypse, it seems. They share a look, a smile, and then they pick her up together and cradle her between their bodies. Daryl kisses her pink cheeks and Rick presses a slightly-sticky kiss to her hat, and together the three of them watch their family enjoy the last of their holiday popsicles as a few fresh flakes of snow begin to drift down around them.


End file.
